


The Abyss and the Hatchet

by LegendaryDreamer



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 16:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4528785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegendaryDreamer/pseuds/LegendaryDreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur awakens in a dark dungeon with no memory of how he got there and no way to escape the horror within. Will help arrive in time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for a 2013 Halloween Challenge and is loosely based on Edgar Allan Poe’s story, “The Pit and the Pendulum".

The cold began permeating his tunic, waking him where he lay. Stretching out his hands and feeling the dampness of hard stone beneath, he began pressing his palms against the dense surface... 

His skull slamming against the solid slab brought Arthur to an awareness of shackles attached to his wrists and ankles. Breathing and exhaling deeply, he quickly came to terms with his immobility, and began to use his senses to better understand his surroundings and predicament. 

While allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and listening intently to the dripping sounds echoing around, he also noted squeaking and scurrying in the background. _Great, rats,_ he mused. It was bad enough that he heard them. But what made it worse was the combined sensation of an occasional moist trickle on his face, along with tiny paws climbing across his torso - and no way to escape from either torment. 

With his sight becoming accustomed to the black around him, Arthur began to discern more of the shadows and shapes that were providing the answers to his location. What became evident was that he was in the bottom of a pit. Rough hewn stone rose above, and around, where he lay in the center of the cavern; and a sliver of light from an opening in the upper reaches broke through the dark grey. 

He thought he could perceive the unmistakable forms of a door next to a window slit and underneath them a ledge protruding from the wall. But there were no ropes, ladders, or walkways - no obvious route down to where he had been placed. It was becoming too hard to think. His head hurt, and this little bit of exertion was starting to leave him feeling drained, causing Arthur to succumb to a much needed rest. 

~~*~~

_Within the inner recesses of his mind, flashes of memory came and went._

_Leaving Camelot before dawn, a fine mist hanging around the deep green foliage of a forest floor, and a wild boar charging towards…_

_Merlin!_

~~*~~

Sweat, combining with the wetness already on his garment, brought Arthur out of the dream, causing him to shiver. He had been so caught up in his own dilemma that he had forgotten about his manservant. And in moments like this when he would truly admit it…his friend. 

What had happened there in the Forest of Brechffa? Who had brought him here and why? And more importantly, was Merlin safe and unharmed? Or was he in a similar situation? 

A sudden creaking noise - and the loud thud of a heavy object moving - stirred Arthur from his reverie, “Hello?” He didn’t expect an answer, but still made the effort to gain a response from his unseen captors, “Anyone there?” 

His voice vibrating around the abyss became the lone din of human contact. Then came a heavy silence, that seemed to last an eternity. 

Suddenly, a _swish-swish_ broke the calm and a brisk breeze began stirring the stale air. 

Looking directly to where the sound and motion came from, Arthur noticed something hanging from the ceiling, swinging back and forth in slow precise movements. It was hard to clearly see what it was, but his heightened awareness knew it did not bode well, and all he could do was wait. 

Time passed and every 30 swings there was clunk as the piece moved steadily downward. With its impending approach, he began to recognize the profile above. What he saw wasn’t for the skittish, and as recognition set in his own heart began to palpitate faster. 

The item moving closer was a pendulum with a large hatchet built into it. Panicking from the thought of a sharp edge slicing through his skin, Arthur kept trying to break free from his constraints out of desperation, even though it was a hopeless endeavour. 

With his efforts weakening his already beaten body, Arthur again laid back, collapsing in exhaustion.  


~~*~~

_More sparse recollections came surging back. Images ran through his mind in bursts of colour and light.  
_

_Spotting the boar, taking aim and lifting his spear, Merlin running towards him, a group of men surrounding him and catching him off guard, a warning yell from Merlin and then darkness…_

~~*~~

A loud commotion and distant voices broke into his sleep, pulling him free of the visions in his mind, but again reminding him of the nightmare overhead. Whatever the cause of the uproar, Arthur would not allow himself an ounce of optimism that it was a possible rescue.


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *fathom = An old unit of measure that was approximately equal to 6 feet.  
> *Atal wagunge = Stop moving, stop shaking.  
> *Unspanne thas mann = Unfasten this man.  
> *Bedyrene us! Astyre us thanonweard. = Conceal us! Guide us from there.

Gazing up, he could see the pendulum’s sharp blade a mere fathom* away. Arthur began to prepare for the inevitable, gulping and closing his eyes, not daring to open them even when the sound of a loud blast reverberated through the depths. Unseen, the door above burst off its hinges, teetering on the ledge for several seconds and then fell below, landing mere inches away from him. Even with the deafening crash, he did not flinch, too caught up in his melancholy to notice a single figure materializing nearby. 

_“Atal wagunge!”*_ A deep and powerful voice spoke ancient words, and something in the tone sounded familiar to Arthur. 

_Was that… no it couldn’t be…_ slowly opening one eye, a hazy, recognizable shape came into view. At least he hoped he wasn’t hallucinating. Merlin was leaning over him, a smug smile on his face. The memory of what was overhead jolted Arthur back to an awareness of danger. Opening his other eye he began rambling incoherent warnings, attempting to point with his fingers… 

“Oh, you mean that,” Merlin, winking and nodding, acknowledged the other’s concerns, “No need to worry, It’s been taken care of.” 

Arthur gave him a blank stare, unable to comprehend why he seemed so unfazed by the peril from above. As Merlin moved out of his line of sight, that was when he heard the silence, the air no longer being fanned by the lethal weapon. The axe hung motionless, a macabre reminder of how close death had been. 

“How did you get down….how did that…” 

Pretending that he did not hear, and could not answer the half asked questions, Merlin stepped back, holding out his hands, nodding towards the constraints, “Now to get you out of those.” 

The next set of words spoken, and a flash of gold passing over the younger man’s eyes, caught Arthur off guard. 

_“Unspanne thas mann!”*_

The shackles broke apart, and fell away from Arthur’s wrists and ankles. Still in shock, he barely noticed when Merlin reached over and helped roll him off the stone slab. While resting against the side of the rock, and allowing time for his limbs to adjust to freedom of movement again, Arthur began to realize something about his man-servant. 

“You, you have magic?!?” Confused he did not know whether he should be afraid, mad, or thankful. Merlin sat down next to him. Flinching and pulling away, Arthur tried to create as much distance between the two of them, “All this time…” 

A combined look of sadness and relief passed over Merlin’s visage, as he reached over and began grabbing Arthur’s arm, pulling it around his shoulder, “Not really the time or place to begin discussing this now.” While tears began falling down his cheeks, his grip tightened around Arthur, who was still too weak to protest, and didn’t have enough strength to pull away. 

“We need to get you home.” 

It was then that the knowledge of who had single handedly come and used his _gifts_ to free him, struck Arthur. How many other times had this occurred? Watching Merlin set himself firmly on the ground, while trying to hold up both their body weights, Arthur began trying to understand the riddle of his man-servant. Was it possible to feel anger towards someone who had used their powers to free another? Maybe magic wasn’t the lone domain of evil and his father had been wrong. 

Too many thoughts and questions swirled through his mind. It would take a while for everything to soak in, to process all this new information. For now all he knew was that they were going back to Camelot and he could trust Merlin with his life. 

_“Bedyrene us! Astyre us thanonweard.”*_

A wind rushed around, carrying them out from the abyss - and back to freedom. 


End file.
